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Owls in the Attic
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The Buffalo Song
It's plagiarism to part your lips.
What do your words mean now that history's been falsified?
Your actions become history
Ripping pages from the volumes
Like a landslide author, you crack the spine
What portions are left, are fictional
Your liberty sickens me
The world celebrates her fall from grace
They raise their glass to purity stripped away
Do I stand alone
In this place that I call home?
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Am I wrong to stay this way?
Unaltered, unaltered
Just because a structure is fleeting
Doesn't mean it's designed to crumble
Foundations were intended to persist
You finally found a way to let me down
I didn't think you had it in you
I'm letting you fall this time
You petition my eyes, but my heart is set
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